


I’ve Drowned My Sorrows, Now Teach Me to Swim

by destroya_ah_ah



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hope, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Self-Harm, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destroya_ah_ah/pseuds/destroya_ah_ah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shall we go for a walk? It’ll take you away from this place – maybe take your mind off of a few things.” The guy suggested, kindness pouring towards me through his nutshell eyes. I didn't reply for a second, dumbfounded at the care a stranger was showing me when no one closer to me would even think to bother. “Look, I’m not trying to get in your pants or anything.” He chuckled, almost mustering a reaction from me. I laughed on the inside, and it stirred up some of the dormant positivity within the gloomy chasm of my chest. “You just seem like you need some company.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’ve Drowned My Sorrows, Now Teach Me to Swim

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic saved on my computer, left half-written, for rather a while so I thought it was about time that I completed and published it.  
> Also, sorry for my infrequent activity on here recently - second year at university is a killer! I promise I'm still writing though, just not very quickly at the moment, so I hope my stories are worth the wait.  
> Anyway, enjoy :) xo
> 
> EDIT: For those wishing to read this story in Russian, [captainstefan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/captainstefan/profile) has been kind enough to create a translated version. You can find it here: [русский перевод](http://ficbook.net/readfic/2838994).

Walking up to the door, I hesitated and gave a sigh. I couldn’t even look up at the door as I pushed it open, the guilt already piling weight onto my shoulders and rising in my throat. The dim lights about the place suited the storm clouds in my head and I kept my eyes lowered as I headed over to the all too familiar bar. Thinking about what I was doing, my jaw tightened and I could already see the regret that was on the horizon.

“What’ll it be, sir?” The bartender asked, his voice lively and joyful. The emotion he displayed was so alien to me. It almost didn’t reach through the invisible wall I kept around myself.

“Whiskey.” I replied, my voice empty and cold in comparison to the guy opposite me. “Make that a double.” Fiddling with my money while I spoke, I didn’t look up to greet the bartender with my eyes. He returned, sliding over a glass containing the golden liquid I’d asked for, and I handed him the cash. “Thanks.” I mumbled.

 

Taking my newly acquired glass, I headed over to a secluded corner. The seat was padded and welcoming, only strengthening the feeling that a dark corner was where I belonged. I took my first look at the people in the room. A young couple enjoying a glass of wine each, a group of giggling girls with colourful drinks, a bunch of guys laughing over their beers. Then there was me: sat in the corner by myself, dirty dark hair falling around my face, a weight in my chest, and dysfunctional thoughts clouding my vision. Leaning my elbow on the table, I stared down into my whiskey and rested my head in my hand. Yet another sigh escaped me. It took so much concentration to simply sit there. I could have easily knocked back my drink and got the whole ordeal over with - but no, my mind had to torture me with working out which side of the coin would make me feel less terrible.

 

I’d arrived to the bar pretty late, and it took me over an hour to sit there and weigh up whether I should ruin two weeks of will power. Most of the room had emptied by the time I looked up at it again, probably driven away by my miserable presence.

 

A guy walking from behind the bar was saying goodbye to the rest of the staff, wishing them a good night before seeing them the next day, and removing his tie before slinging a leather jacket on. He noticed me, a concerned look across his neat brows. My attention sank back down to my drink; I didn’t want to talk. He sat opposite me.

“Hey, man.” It was the happy voice of the bartender who’d served me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m–” I sighed again. “I’m fine.” _Stock answer_.

“You sure?” He leaned down towards the table and angled his face up to try and look me in the eye. I bit my lip; no one ever bothered to question me further when I gave that answer. “Well, I know I work here, but I’m sure I can advise against what we sell when it’s not my shift. Are you sure you should drink that?”

“I shouldn’t...but I really want to right now.” I replied, clearing my throat and scrubbing a hand over my face. Looking up at the roof, I took a moment before looking at the guy.

“Let’s leave that over there for a minute.” A hand made its way across the table and I hesitated before letting my grip on the glass go. He slid the glass closer to him and then off to the side. “See? Easy.” He smiled – something I hadn’t seen directed at me for longer than I cared to think about.

“The want is still there.” I murmured. It took all my attention not to look over to the whiskey.

“Shall we go for a walk? It’ll take you away from this place – maybe take your mind off of a few things.” The guy suggested, kindness pouring towards me through his nutshell eyes. I didn’t reply for a second, dumbfounded at the care a stranger was showing me when no one closer to me would even think to bother. “Look, I’m not trying to get in your pants or anything.” He chuckled, almost mustering a reaction from me. I laughed on the inside, and it stirred up some of the dormant positivity within the gloomy chasm of my chest. “You just seem like you need some company.”

“Y–yeah.” I answered, thinking it over for a second. _Why not grab this with both hands? Someone willing to help me is what I’ve been waiting for_. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

The guy stood from the table and I followed suit as he stuck a hand out to me.

“Frank.” He said as I shook it.

“Gerard.” I told him in reply, a twitch of a smile managing to appear at one corner of my mouth.

“See ya later, guys.” He called to the other bar staff, who were still clearing up as we headed out the door. They called back to us to have a good night and, for once, I felt noticed as I walked out into the dark evening with someone by my side.

“Wh-where are we going?” I asked.

“Anywhere.” Frank replied, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jacket and away from the cold. “Let’s go around the block for now and see how you feel.”

“Okay.” I replied, feeling anxious at the lack of planning, but also not wanting to let the kind stranger go.

“May I ask how long you’ve been sober?”

“Uhm, two weeks.” I told him. It wasn’t that long to be sober; normal people lasted longer than that without even thinking about it. “I almost ruined it.”

“Hey, you’re doing great! Plus, you _didn’t_ ruin it, so every second going by right now is a second longer that you’ve succeeded.” That twitch of a smile moved my face again.

“How are you so positive all the time?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

“It’s simple once you know how.” Frank explained. “It’s partly having the right frame of mind, which is easier said than done. It’s having the ability to look at things from different perspectives.”

“Can you teach me?” Once I’d relaxed a little in Frank’s presence, I became desperate to feel even a fraction of the happiness he displayed.

“I can try.” He chuckled.

 

We’d walked around the corner from the bar and I looked across the road to where I would normally make my way home.

“You live in that direction?”

“Yeah. Can we go that way? I’ll stay out to talk but I might as well go in the direction of home.”

“Of course.” Frank smiled, nudging my elbow with his. “I live over there too anyway. I can walk all the way with you, if you’d like.” With anyone else, I’d have told them I was okay to go alone, but Frank made me feel different. He calmed me and I welcomed the brief break he gave me from drowning in my own misery.

“That’d be nice.”

 

We continued to talk as we strolled along the night time streets of November, lit brightly by the street lamps overhead. I learned that Frank was twenty one, only just able to be hired two weeks earlier at the bar I’d visited that night. I wished him a belated happy birthday and told him that I was twenty three, trying to get into working on comics, but only being hired for short-lived projects and unimportant jobs. Turning into the next road, I came to a halt in front of my apartment block and looked up at the windows, lit in an unorganized fashion across the building’s tall face.

“You live here?” Frank asked, a strange tone in his voice.

“Y-yeah... It’s all I can afford with the work that I get, and spending my pay on drinking doesn’t - _didn’t_ \- help.” I explained, my heart sinking a little with the thought that I’d be alone again once Frank said goodnight and walked away.

“No, wait. I mean, you live in my apartment block.” He told me. My heart stopped sinking: the chain on its heavy anchor being halted and winched back up closer to the surface.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Apartment one-ninety.”

“One-eighty-four... You must be on the floor above me.”

“Well, I really can walk all the way home with you then.” My smile grew from a twitch to a wider stretch of my mouth, not quite full.

 

We headed into the block and waited for the elevator together.

“You’ve gotta show me some of your comic stuff, by the way. I love things like that.” Frank grinned, bouncing on his toes once we’d entered the elevator. “I think depression is sometimes the price you pay for being creative, but the creativity also helps you deal with it.”

“I can show you some new designs, if you want.” I shrugged. “Do you do anything like that?”

“I play guitar actually, but my art skills go no further than stick-men.” He laughed. We reached my floor and he followed me out to my door. Opening it with my key, I saw the state I’d left my apartment in when I’d thrown a hissy fit at myself and stormed out to find somewhere drink.

“Ugh, it’s a mess in here. Don’t look; I’ll go get my sketchbook.” I told him. He was already somewhat of a friend to me but he didn’t need to see the extent of what my depression made me do.

“Why don’t you bring it up to my apartment? We can talk some more there and then you can come back to yours whenever you want.” Frank offered, clearly looking into my apartment anyway and spotting a bunch of empty bottles on my kitchen counter, his gaze trailing over to my sketchbooks and pencils littered across the coffee table. Again, I’d have turned anyone else down, wanting to fade back into the shadows of my apartment and dwell in the gloomy isolation that welcomed me there. Frank, however, just had something about him that I found difficult to refuse. I’d connected with him for some reason and he really seemed to understand me.

“Sure, okay.”

 

Locking my door again, I turned to Frank with my favourite sketchbook clutched to my chest and he led me back over to the elevator.

“Not a fan of the stairwells, huh?” I asked, knowing why Frank would rather take the elevator even though our destination was only one floor away.

“No way.” He chuckled again. “This place gives me the creeps as it is - I’d rather not get knifed by a shadow-lurking dickbag too.” I agreed with him wholeheartedly; I’d only walked into the stairwell once, encountering a guy sitting in the corner about to shoot heroin whilst asking if I had any smokes. I’d only ascended one floor before stepping back into the hallway and using the elevator to go the rest of the flight.

 

Reaching the floor quickly, Frank welcomed me into his apartment and I was comforted by the layout being identical to mine. I sat down on his couch and took off my jacket. Bustling about, Frank hooked his leather jacket and his tie on the back of the apartment door and put mine with it. I followed suit when he toed off his smart shoes, untying my chunky boots and pulling them off. He seemed to be tidying up but the open plan kitchen and living area was spotless compared to mine.

“Sorry - I can get obsessive with it.” Frank apologised, walking over to the kitchen counter. “Need any juice, water, soda...?” He trailed.

“Uh, soda, please.” I requested, and Frank dipped into the refrigerator to retrieve two cans of coke. I thanked him as he sat down and handed me a safer drink than the one he’d first given me.

“What kind of stuff do you draw for comics, then?” He asked, fixing the open collar of his black button-down.

“I work on characters mostly. I design them and work on little details until I’m happy with them, and then I just cross my fingers that one of the local contractors will take them.” Opening the book in my lap, I turned a few pages and showed Frank a spaceman I’d been working on. I explained to him that I was sometimes allowed to design a cover or two for a comic series if my characters were used too, so I showed him a few pages covering the growth of a new cover I’d been designing. He really seemed to love my stuff. He certainly liked it a whole lot more than the contractors I had to pitch to, who always looked over my work with uninterested eyes. They always saw comics as a business; they couldn’t see that some creations need to be strange or different in order to reach the most obscure audience, to tell them that they’re not alone. Frank could see that. He asked about all of the details on every single page, pouring over each line and shape and colour.

 

We got to the last page and I began to wish I’d brought more of my sketchbooks with me, wanting to stay up all night and show them to the only person who’d ever shown any real interest in my work.

“You’re fantastic at this, you know that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say fantastic... I– I just–”

“You _are_ fantastic, okay? You just need to find the right people to take you on.” He told me, turning back to a page for a character that hadn’t been accepted. “Look at this! It’s perfect!”

“But they hated it.” I mumbled, remembering how crushed I’d felt when my chimp, Detective Harlow, got turned down - and how much I’d drank that night to drown my sorrow.

“No, no. They just didn’t see what it could do for an audience.” Frank justified his point, scooting up close to me and taking the book in his lap to pour over the details again. “They didn’t see that a chimp detective would be new and different and lacking in clients. He’d only be great once he was given the right opportunity to prove himself. That’s a valuable lesson to teach, but maybe the contractors you spoke to just didn’t see it. Maybe you should take Chimp-lock Holmes to someone else.” Frank smiled when he turned his head to face me again. I marvelled at how his outlook on life could be so full of hope, even his view for someone as downbeat as me. Before I could think, I was moving forward towards his optimistic face, and our lips met for a second or two.

“Oh. S– sorry. I didn’t think– I just–” I babbled, until Frank cut me off.

“It’s okay.” He calmed me, a hand on my shoulder.

“You’re just so happy. I don’t know what it is about you. I felt like you could kiss it into me, or something. I don’t know...” I turned, leaned forward in my seat and let my head fall into my hands with a sigh. I heard Frank put down my book gently, and his arm slid around my back.

“Hey, it wasn’t all that bad, dude.” He made me sit up and turn to him so that he could hug me properly. “Did you mean to kiss me?”

“I– I think so.” I nodded into his shoulder. He pulled back from the hug and lifted my face with the tips of his fingers under my chin.

“Then it’s all good.” He smiled, moving closer and kissing me back.

 

The anchor of my heart transformed for those few seconds. It was no longer heavy. It rose to the surface and bobbed up to be lifted like a kite in the air. Blood rushed into my face, pulsing in my ears and heating my cheeks. When Frank moved back and looked at me, he had an unreadable expression along with his smile.

“What?” I gave a tiny laugh, feeling self-conscious.

“You’re smiling.” He told me, forcing the realisation on me that I’d let my smile grow wider and unguarded – and _real_. I had no reply to give except to kiss Frank again. Leaning in, I put my arm around his shoulders and he rested his hand on my knee. Kissing felt new again, after having isolated myself from close relationships for so long. We kept going until I was dizzy, and then Frank smiled against my lips before diving in with his tongue and taking me by surprise.

 

Getting more frantic, I felt the blood that was heating my cheeks begin to head south. I gave in to Frank’s gentle pushes at my chest and I held the back of his neck as we fell my way.

“Not trying to get in my pants, huh?” I smirked, feeling the hardness in Frank’s suit pants pressing against me. Not that I could accuse him; I was half-hard in my jeans too.

“I meant it!” He giggled softly, kissing me more and moving his hips gently. Moving back after a while, Frank sat up and brought me with him by taking my hands. “Bedroom?” He panted close to my face, making sure I gave an answer.

“Yeah.” I nodded, trying to catch my breath. Frank shifted and stepped from the couch, tugging on my hands to help pull me up.

 

Half-running and half-hopping, Frank lead me by the hand over to his bedroom door, almost tripping over himself as he tried to take his socks off one-handed, giggling all the while. I did as he’d done and tore off my hoodie too, discarding it before entering the room.

 

It was no sooner than the door had closed that my shoulders were being pressed back against it. Frank began kissing at my neck, his hands resting on my chest. He found the most sensitive spot up by my jaw and my grip on his hips tightened before I slipped my hands between us and worked at the button and zipper on his pants. My hands dipped into the back of them and I grabbed his ass to pull him closer. He gasped, wriggling out of his pants and kicking them off to the side. I speedily unbuttoned his shirt and left it open, seeing a tattoo of a flame with the word ‘ _hope_ ’ beneath it on one side of his perfect pale chest. Finding my lips again, Frank’s kisses continued, only interrupted by our heavy breathing as he guided me away from the door and turned us around to let me fall back onto his bed.

 

I scooted back a little and let Frank crawl over me to open my jeans and pull them off of my legs. Yanking my t-shirt off, I sat back up to throw it to the side and meet Frank straddling my thighs. Gently, I pushed the collar of his shirt back and he shrugged it from his shoulders, looking hesitant when it rested around his elbows.

“What is it?” I asked, slowing for a second and nudging his nose lightly with mine. Frank bit his lip and looked down to his thighs. Drawing his shirt tails back slowly, he revealed an abundance of scars across his hips and the tops of his thighs, peeking out from the edges of his skin-hugging shorts. Thankfully, none of them looked fresh. I locked eyes with him. “You’re so strong, Frank. You survived. You’ve succeeded so well that you’re helping me survive too.” I told him sincerely, lifting his chin with my fingertips and kissing him as he’d done with me before. Seeming to feel a little better about it, Frank let the shirt’s sleeves slip from his arms, tossing it to the floor and revealing the same scars littering his forearms. I picked up his wrists and kissed each of them tenderly.

“Can I ask how long it’s been?” I murmured, looking to his face again, our actions still intimate and trusting.

“Six months.” That was twelve times what I’d done - it was incredible. “I recognised the same sadness in you and I wanted to help. No one should be alone when they fight a battle like this. Everyone should have hope.”

“You’re so beautiful.” I told him. A smile appeared on his face at that, after our brief interval, and his lips returned to mine.

 

Leaning over me as I fell back again, Frank rutted against my thigh as his hand ventured down to squeeze at the bulge in the front of my boxers. I gasped at the contact and tugged at his hair. Breaking off, Frank crawled to the side of me and began digging into the drawer of his nightstand, retrieving a condom in a foil packet and some lube. Just as I wished Frank would come back and relieve the ache for more contact and friction, he stopped and read the packet of the condom.

“Hold up.” He said, concentrating. “Oh, it’s okay. I’ve had these a while, that’s all.” I understood that he was checking for a date on the packet and I opened my arms to him.

 

Lying on me again, Frank’s arms were up around my shoulders as mine wrapped around his waist. I moaned a little at the grinding of his hips and I traced my fingertips along the small of his back before dipping them into his shorts and grabbing his ass again. Taking that as a hint, he reached back and moved his shorts down his thighs, having to rearrange himself to take them off properly. It was an act of instinct when I took hold of his dick and began stroking slowly. He stopped what he was about to do and remained straddling my hips, sat up on his knees with his head tilted back. His breathing changed after a moment or two and he let out a small whine from the back of his throat. I slid my free hand up his thigh and pressed down my fingertips lightly. Thrusting, slow and savouring, into my hand, he looked down at me and bit his lip.

 

Rolling his head back again, Frank brought his hand blindly to my wrist to slow my strokes down.

“ _Hnn_ , prep me.” He breathed. I grabbed the lube and Frank moved back from me, teasing off my shorts and leaving them with the rest of the clothes that we’d left strewn around the room. Kneeling up, I let Frank lie back, his head resting at the foot of the bed. Popping the cap of the lube open, I coated my fingers in the thick substance and leaned over Frank, letting myself rest half on him and half off. He bent his free leg to raise his knee and give me better access. Frank bit his lip as I pushed my first finger in slowly, a frown in his brow as he closed his eyes. Seizing the opportunity, I kissed at his exposed neck and got him to relax better, and I was soon able to add a second finger. Frank started moving with me again then. He moved his hips to press down with each push of my fingers, and he moved me back gently so he could reach down to my dick and stroke it slowly. After scissoring my fingers a couple of times, I curled them and hit the spot that made Frank gasp.

“C’mere.” He giggled softly afterwards, turning his face to mine and stealing more kisses as he shifted about. I’d stopped with my fingers and I was ushered to lie back, Frank crawling over me and returning us to how we’d been lying before. Kneeling again, Frank bent down to rest his chest against mine, kissing me more, using his tongue as my hands roamed his back and he grabbed for the condom.

 

Shuffling back, Frank ripped the foil open and rolled the condom onto my dick. He picked up the lube again and squeezed a tiny amount into his palm, stroking my dick with it a few more times, so teasingly slow and intense. Scooting forward, he reached back underneath himself to regain hold of my dick as he hovered over me, and I traced my hands from his knees and up along his thighs to hold his hips. As I felt the first contact, I watched Frank close his eyes and tip his head up slightly, biting down more on his lip. He moved gradually, free hand gripping my shoulder. Once he’d sunk down all the way, he looked to me again, taking my hands from his sides and guiding them around his back to get me to sit up with him.

 

Frank wrapped his arms around my neck, his forehead pressed against mine. I held him tight and began locking him in lengthy kisses as his hips started to move again. Beginning to slide easily up my length and sit back down onto it smoothly, Frank groaned and opened up a space for my kisses to move to his neck. His fingers tightened into my hair at times, occurring with the bigger bucks of his hips. Returning my grip to his sides, I helped him bounce as he rested his forehead on the side of mine, breathing heavily against my cheek. I could feel his dick sliding in between us with every few thrusts, getting friction from both sides.

 

As he moved to kiss me again, Frank’s face was hot and pink, his lips swollen and wet, and his eyes heavy-lidded. He was tiring but still using so much energy in his hips. I decided to switch it up and make up for how much work he was doing. Taking an arm from around him, I let my weight fall to the side a little as I rested back on my hand in preparation. Then, when I knew Frank was holding on, I rolled us over and rested on my forearms as they wrapped under his shoulders. Holding him tenderly like that made it easy to remain close while I kept up the rhythm he’d created. Lifting his knees up closer, Frank let out a moan as I hit his prostate hard, and he hooked his legs around my back with his ankles crossed. That made it so much easier to get to his sweet spot and I kissed the side of his neck, wanting his moaning mouth next to my ear. Each thrust brought a new sound from Frank’s throat and my hips grew faster as my voice joined his. Mumbling and moaning against his skin, I held onto Frank as I felt my lower stomach begin to tighten.

“ _Fuck_ , almost– _ah_ –” He babbled, digging his fingertips into my spine as he caught my mouth for another kiss. My hips started to go into over-drive, making me moan into Frank’s kisses as I came. Breaking off, he let his head fall back and he came without even being touched, spilling over his stomach and letting out a long moan.

 

We slowed and stopped, still wrapped up in each other’s limbs with our foreheads touching. Moving his hands through my hair slowly, Frank’s breathing trembled and he smiled. I couldn’t help but steal it from his lips, and I kissed him deeply. He moved his arms from around me, gently pushing at my chest. Unhooking his legs and letting them down, Frank made a tiny noise when I pulled out of him, obviously becoming sensitive.

“Trash?” I asked as I removed the condom and tied it off. He pointed to the corner where a tiny trash can sat, and I stood to throw it away. Walking back over, I saw how Frank was lying: forearm slung over his forehead with a smile on his face, his knees folded up comfortably, feet flat on the bed, and his ankles still crossed over. He looked ecstatic and exhausted at the same time.

“Drawer.” He said, pointing to the nightstand. Understanding what he meant, I picked up the lube from the end of the bed and placed it inside the drawer, retrieving a soft dry washcloth from it and handing it to Frank as I lay back down beside him. Taking it from me, Frank cleaned off his stomach slowly, leaving the cloth on the nightstand on his side of the bed, to deal with in the morning. While he’d been busy cleaning up, I’d snuggled into his side. I pressed my face to his shoulder and curled a hand around his arm.

“Hey.” He giggled quietly, smiling at me. Turning over to face me, he pushed my hair back from my face and kissed my forehead. I felt a chill as the heat in our bodies began to dissipate and I gave a little shiver. “C’mon. Let’s get in.” He told me, squirming around and climbing under the covers without standing up. I did the same and felt Frank’s arm slide around my waist.

 

Settling, our actions remained close and tender. It meant more just to stay quiet with each other for a little while, than to talk about anything. I realised how much I’d smiled since Frank walked back to the apartment block with me - more than I’d smiled for months.

“Frank, I know it’s kinda crazy, ‘cause I’ve only known you for a few hours...but I think I can already say that I love you.” His smile widened.

“I can say that too – I love you.” He gave another tiny giggle. “Um, and just so you know, I don’t normally bring people home and take them to bed with me, okay? You’re special to me. I– I really _did_ mean that I wasn’t trying to get in your pants.” Frank grew shy, half-smiling and glancing everywhere except my face.

“It’s okay. I can tell you’re not like that.” I ran the back of my finger across his cheek. “You’re too caring and truthful to be like that.”

 

Rubbing noses slowly, we kept rearranging our arms in order to touch differently, trailing our fingers through hair, or over shoulders, or along spines. The anchor on my heart no longer held it down. Not only had my heart flown up out of the ocean of misery like a kite in the wind, but it wasn’t chained to anything anymore. I was free, and Frank was the wind in my sails.

“You’ve gone all sleepy.” I chuckled quietly, watching his eyes begin to close and then flutter back open.

“It’s so easy to sleep when there’s someone to cuddle.”

“Tell me about it.” I agreed. “Let the comfy sleeping commence.” With that, I turned over and held Frank’s arm around me. He snuggled up a bit closer and kissed my shoulder before settling down. After mumbling a happy ‘ _g’night_ ’ to each other, it really was easy to drift off to sleep.

 

~ xo ~

 

Waking facing out from the bed, I looked around my bedroom without my head needing to move. The gloom of the November morning brought no light to my heart and I considered the prospect of feeling the way I did for another endless day, or week, or month. Feeling empty and alone, I figured I must have had the drink that was served to me the night before, and come home to dream of a guy who would actually talk to me, and love me, and support me. _No such luck. Not in this cruel world._

 

Tears began to roll in odd paths from my eyes, dictated by gravity on my tipped face. I sniffed and sobbed, hoping for my loneliness to end, even if it meant being taken from the world.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” A hand slid over my hip, squeezing down gently. My eyes widened and I remembered what my heart had become - no longer an empty anchored vessel. Frank’s hand withdrew slightly, hesitant. “Oh, regrets, maybe?”

“Not at all.” I assured him, searching for his hand and pulling his arm around me.

“What, then?” He asked, nuzzling his nose into the curve of my neck. Turning over, I was met with the kind face that had rescued me.

“Your place is so identical to mine, I forgot where I was.” I explained, wiping my tears away. “I was convinced I’d dreamed you up and spent the night alone.”

“A dream, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.” Frank laughed, bringing back the happiness that he’d managed to awaken within me. “You’re not alone anymore - not now and not ever. That’s a promise.” Worming an arm underneath me, he lay back and turned me to rest my head on his chest. He kissed my hair.

“Last night you said that no one should be alone, and that everyone should have hope.” I remembered his words and realised that the sign had been there all along. Tracing my finger over the flame and the lettering on the closest side of his chest, I glanced down to the ‘ _hope_ ’ tattoo. “Well, I think I’ve found mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: falling in love will (most likely) not cure mental illness. Having a strong support system and healthy relationships with people you can trust will help a lot, but that's just part of the road to getting better. **If you are struggling with any form of maladaptive thoughts, feelings, or addictions, please tell someone and seek appropriate help.** Everything will get better.


End file.
